


Home

by Aithilin, Wind_Ryder



Series: Something New [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lestrade, Alpha Victor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Omega Sherlock, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Ryder/pseuds/Wind_Ryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of domestic fluff in the household as Sherlock, Victor, and Lestrade bask in the idea of their family before facing the practicalities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

They spent hours, days, weeks relearning everything. Surrounded by the comfort of familiar ad new scents, new tastes that danced at the edge of their tongues. Victor spent the days running his hands over Sherlock’s belly, seeking out the tiny changes that would confirm what could be scented throughout the flat. While Lestrade was away at work (or simply being the responsible one and fetching the shopping), Victor reacquainted himself with his mate. One of his mates. His first mate.  


It wasn’t always the three of them. It had started with just Sherlock. With just the usual idea of what they should be looking for. But they were both reckless and dramatic, and Sherlock refused to follow his alpha across the world, and Victor refused to force his omega into anything. The idea of children and family were just a distant thought than— a happy dream they could never really reach. Out of uni, they had no home, no money; no real means to support the family that would be expected of them if they bonded. They had bonded anyway. With the promise that society could go fuck itself with its expectations.

Victor never lost his fascination with the bond marks. Even now, with Sherlock (oddly) patient with his explorations, Victor kept going back to it. Hands flat over Sherlock’s belly, he would nip and suck and kiss and bite at the thin line of scarred flesh. He’d nuzzle at Sherlock’s neck and jaw and press his scent into everything. Soak up the scent pressed against him. 

At least until Sherlock grew bored.

It was really only in appeasing Sherlock’s ever-changing attention span that Victor accepted he was home. Even if he longed to spend the rest o his life in bed with his mate and try to scent and sense their child. 

*-*-*

Lestrade had first come in as a solid support for Sherlock. An omega, bonded or not, running around London was just not something that could happen without problems. Lestrade had stepped in. Not to protect Sherlock from the streets, but to protect the streets from the fierceness of Sherlock.  


Sherlock in a strop, adding drama, or just on the scent of a bigger case than he had been called in on, could be a dangerous thing. And Lestrade took his promises seriously. 

Like Victor, he loved Sherlock first. 

Now, as they sat about the flat in some form of domesticity, he wondered why he hadn’t considered these options before. Why he thought that the scent of another alpha was a deterrent (it was, to a degree, but Victor was the sweet-calm call of a home that he was so often away from: a final note to the harmony of the three of them) and that omegas were prizes to be wrest away from others. 

He couldn’t imagine trying to handle Sherlock on his own now. 

As the pasta for dinner simmered in the too-watery, canned sauce, Lestrade closed his eyes and just absorbed the sensation of home. Three distinct, human scents made up their home— triggered rewards in his brain to view the outside world with his baser instincts. This was safe. This was them. 

Victor sat on the sitting room floor, a calendar and diary spread out on the coffee table with the case notes and forensic photos. He had taken to scheduling the appointments Sherlock would need; the tests and scans and follow-ups that accompanied every first pregnancy and anxious alpha. 

Sherlock lounged on the sofa. The practicalities of dealing with the health system held no interest for him. He could consult with John— an omega medical professional. And that was all he needed to think about. The more worrisome alphas could handle the details of appointments and tests (he would take a more active interest in these details once it’s confirmed to be a viable pregnancy). Eyes closed against distractions, Lestrade could only assume that the omega strolled through his own mind and locked away whatever information he absorbed now. The scent of slightly overcooked pasta or the pitch of Victor’s voice as he confirmed dates and assured clinics that Sherlock would be there. 

“You’re thinking.”

Lestrade smiled as he plated their dinner. “Which one of us, sunshine?”

“You. Victor isn’t thinking; he’s worrying.”

“It’s not worrying if I’m setting out a schedule, Will.”

He had given up on sanitizing the kitchen table long ago, and brought the plates out to the sitting room in pairs. The third set down with the cheese only Victor seemed to use. “Victor is always worrying. Dinner.”

They moved together, just as they always had. It had taken years to settle into this balance, this harmony, but it was a hard-won victory. And in the quiet pause, Lestrade couldn’t keep himself from tasting Sherlock’s scent— a soft touch of lips and tongue to the bright bond between them. Where he could feel Victor and Sherlock, and the little promise between the three of them still deciding how to grow. 

“For god’s sake, Lestrade!” Sherlock had had enough of the alpha shows of territory and reassuring claims for one day. “I’m trying to eat.”


End file.
